


Don't Judge A Boy By His Jacket

by thelandofphan



Category: Phan, Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), dan and phil
Genre: Bullies, Bully, Dan Howell - Freeform, Dan helps, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gay, Gen, Homophobia, I didn't mention weather be proud, I'm Sorry, Leather Jackets, M/M, One Shot, Phan - Freeform, Phan Comfort, Phan Fluff, Phanfiction, Phil Lester - Freeform, Phil hurt, School, Shirt, Tie, fight, highschool, kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 04:37:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4508076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelandofphan/pseuds/thelandofphan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil swiftly flicked his eyes around his surroundings, noticing somebody different. The mysterious boy stood taller than most in his year, his hazel fringe falling just above his matching eyes. The new student wore a simple, black leather jacket that fell open around his torso - revealing his loose navy tie and slightly untucked shirt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Judge A Boy By His Jacket

**Author's Note:**

  * For [omg_itscharlie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/omg_itscharlie/gifts), [FloralGee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FloralGee/gifts).



Phil Lester ambled through the busy corridors, his dark rucksack battering against his slightly creased shirt. Despite his age - and height - the younger students still proceeded to shove him aside as they hustled their way to class. He slowly sauntered past the lockers, cautiously avoiding others in his year as they confidently strode towards him. As their paths crossed, a few students in Phil's classes smashed into him, throwing him into a nearby wall. The group uttered their usual abuse in his direction before continuing back down the hallway.

Although Phil knew it was wrong, he had grown accustomed to the daily homophobic abuse that he had received over the last few months. Despite his simple, reserved personality he was still bullied about his life choices an entire year after coming out. Over the months, Phil had learnt to accept these comments and laugh them off with a slight smile that masked his anger and pain beneath.

As he slowly loitered down the emptying hallway - attempting to avoid his next class - Phil observed his surroundings. The pale blue lockers stood stacked high on either wall of the corridor with each door made up of various stickers, paints and photos. The white-wash walls were pasted with posters and leaflets, the old, stained wooden doors creaking on their hinges and the dim, yellow lights flickering gently above.

Phil swiftly flicked his eyes around the surroundings, noticing somebody different. The new boy stood between two others who were familiar to Phil - he found them in most of his classes; they usually directed unwanted opinions his way. The mysterious boy stood taller than most in his year, his hazel fringe falling just above his matching eyes. His light complexion illuminated his dark features, faint freckles and desirable pink lips - which were holding an unlit cigarette. He wore his navy tie loose around his neck, his white shirt untucked slightly and rucksack balanced on one shoulder. The brown-haired boy also wore a simple, black leather jacket - decorated with only with one small silver pin and a typical zip - that fell open around his torso.

As the brown-haired boy and his companions maneuvered closer, Phil observed as one of them leaned in, raising his head to whisper toward the new student. As he continued, one of the shorter boys stepped away from the rhythm of the other two students, leaving them behind. He marched nearer Phil, a subtle smirk pasted across his face as he threw one punch after another into the raven-haired boy's stomach. Phil instantly crippled over as his spine crashed forward, his knees shaking beneath him.

The new boy stood away from the others with his back pressed against the smooth white wall and hips thrusted forwards, his arms dropped by his side. His eyes were averted from the boys, distracted by the towering lockers ahead and the contents of his jacket pockets. The unfamiliar boy's gaze was fixed on the numbers that each door held; his eyes following the rows of metal, reading each word as he did so, whilst his fingers rustled inside the material.

"You're a freak," the second, shorter student hissed fleeing to Phil's side, spitting into his face as fell to his knees. Phil bent over further, a sharp pain rushing through his body as an intense bombardment of fists pounded into him. The first student continued to shout abuse as he stepped closer to Phil - who was slowly crippling further under the attack. The two boys that surrounded him continued to hit, their shoes aiming for his shrunken torso. Phil knelt in front of his two attackers, his arms clutching the pain in his chest, as a fourth student stepped into view.

"Careful," the new voice hollered, "he might try and suck you off," he laughed, gesturing to how close the boys were standing to Phil. The attackers jumped back from the broken boy before them with utter disgust, darting him a look of hatred each as they did so. The three boys ushered away from Phil, rejoining the lighter-haired student before turning away from the corridor.

Phil watched in agony as the four boys continued to follow the lockers around a corner and out of sight. His eyes briefly met those of another as he stared; the tall, unknown student turned as he walked, a look of sorrow in his capturing eyes. Phil dropped his gaze, pressing his twisted torso against the firm wall, drawing his knees into himself. He had pulled his arms around his front with hands resting on his shoulders. Phil's face was drained white with terror, his racing heart threatening to jump through his mouth. 

It had taken Phil approximately seven minutes to pick himself up from his mangled state on the floor and follow the abandoned hallway to the nearest toilet. After staggering through the door and falling against the sink, he stood with his shirt unbuttoned, facing the dirty mirror, eyes fixed on his broad chest. The deep red marks had already started to bruise, leaving large purple circles to form over his delicate skin. Phil slowly maneuvered his fingers to the swelling, gently pressing them to his pale skin, wincing as he did so. As he stared into himself, tears started to collect in his deep eyes, attempting to force their way down his face. 

Phil resisted the urge to let them free and instead lowered his hands and stammered his way to a low window ledge. He carefully pulled himself up, gently avoiding his wounds, his legs dangling ever-so slightly. He sat silently, delicately rubbing his swollen chest, occasionally wiping dried drops of blood from his fingers. As Phil dabbed at his skin, the toilet door swung open with a crash and the new boy from previously stepped in, his rucksack dragging behind him. He instantly acknowledged Phil - who had shrunken further into a corner - yet continued into the room as if he wasn't there. 

The lighter-haired boy stepped up to the sinks, his left shoulder facing Phil; his strong leather jacket now held deep, black creases that formed across the back. From the ledge, Phil lowered his hands to observe the boy's curling fringe - that had now been pushed back - and his small, discrete dimples. The tall boy turned, glancing in the direction of the window once more. His own eyes followed the body ahead of him - that looked slightly uncomfortable and nervous under his gaze - before heading back towards the door.

Before he reached the metal handle, he twisted his torso back and shyly stepped further forward into the room, approaching Phil. He cautiously continued until his eyes were aligned with Phil's neck; small bruises forming there too. The blue-eyed boy fidgeted slightly as an unfamiliar pair of hands opened his already unbuttoned shirt. His muscles twinged instantly, the gentle pressure shooting shivers throughout his body, causing his shoulders to jerk backwards. The new boy stared for a brief second before reaching out, placing both hands on Phil's beating chest. He let out a small gasp in shock as the warmth brushed against his sensitive skin, the new fingers running down his torso, gently tracing the darkening bruises.

"I'm sorry," the unfamiliar boy whispered, "I should have stopped them. I wish I'd said something." He slowly dropped his hands to Phil's waist, causing his back to arch slightly. He carefully pressed his soft, pink lips to the damaged chest, attempting to extend his apology and soothe the agony. 

After a second, he lowered his hands fully and looked into Phil's deep eyes, slowly rising his lips into an innocent smile - that contrasted with his style. Phil's shaking eventually came to an end, the fear slipping away as the smile ahead grew, causing his own to climb his cheeks. The new boy turned into his step as he manoeuvred towards the door once more. 

"Urm, I'm Phil by the way," the dark haired boy mumbled from where he sat, his face flushing red with both regret and embarrassment.

"Dan," the other boy replied, turning back and smiling once more before leaving Phil alone again.

**Author's Note:**

> I just want to apologise for any homophobic comments made. I do not support these views in any way, they were only stated/used for the purpose of the fic.
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
> Please comment/kudos if you enjoyed :)


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